The Will
by Hane no Zaia
Summary: AU. If there is will, there is way. And if there is a Will, then maybe there is a way out of Allen's latest financial predicament. Maybe.
1. The Deliverer

_AU. If there is will, there is way. And if there is a Will, then maybe there is a way out of Allen's latest financial predicament. Maybe._

 _Edited: August 27_ _th_ _2017_

-.-.-.-

 **The Deliverer**

-.-.-.-

If there is will, there is way. And, if there was a Will, then perhaps there was a way out of Allen's latest financial predicament.

People were not supposed to inherit other people's debts and for good reasons at that. However, as things were, loan sharks and their people tended to work around and outside the boundaries of the law rather than within them. Besides, with his own track record, Allen figured that the law would hardly do him any favours either.

Allen Walker, aged sixteen, was sick and tired of getting screwed over. Initially, the news that his guardian, Cross Marian, had finally bitten the dust had come as something of a relief. Once dead, the man could hardly rake up any heftier debts after all, because they were hefty enough as it was.

"Do I really need two kidneys?"

He uttered the question to the largely stripped apartment one late Monday morning in the early autumn. There was after all a quite staggering sum that he would need to have at his disposal by the end of the month; Cross did owe a whole lot of people money and after adding it all up, Allen had finally realised just how screwed he was.

Dropping out of school had been an easy choice; it liberated few funds but a whole lot of time. And time was running out anyway, so he might as well make it count while he still had Internet access.

Legally, a kidney sold for somewhere around 1,000-2,500 pounds. Illegally, it could technically sell for a much higher sum, like 100,000 or something. And, without a middleman taking most of it, that should be able to cover most of the collected debt but not all of it. And Allen did want to repay it all, because if he did not, then there was a definite risk of them harvesting his organs for themselves in order to make up for their losses.

So, as things were now, one kidney would have to go. And, if push came to shove, perhaps a piece of his liver as well; the liver was regenerative, but he kept it as a last resort, having heard that the recovery period was nothing short of excruciating. Selling his corneas did not sound very appealing either because he still needed them, much like he still needed a whole lot of his other organs. As for blood, he had plenty of it, but the money he would get for it was nowhere near the amount that he needed.

Selling his organs aside, there were only really three viable options: Selling himself, turning himself in to the proper authorities or waging it all on gambling. Out of the three, Allen definitely favoured the third alternative, because with the other two, who really‒?

A sharp rap on the door interrupted his musings, and Allen turned his head to glance towards it. By now, he had already grown too jaded to flinch, and he watched the door not with tense apprehension but rather with grim exasperation, even anticipation. When someone began fiddling with the mail slot, Allen merely turned around fully in his seat and narrowed his eyes at the spectacle.

The swivel chair gave the slightest creak, and apparently, it was enough. "Hello, Mr. Walker? Mr. Allen Walker, are you in there?"

They were unusually polite, but Allen wasn't falling for that. After all, trust didn't come easily and opening the door to strangers these days was decidedly dangerous; it had always been dangerous, but now it was more dangerous than ever before.

"There is a delivery for you, so if you'd please‒?"

Hoh? A delivery? A package? Allen supposed it could be a mail bomb if it wasn't a new slew of debts people expected him to pay. Or perhaps the package was just a ruse in hopes of luring him closer to the door? Perhaps they stood there on the other side of it, armed with a semi-automatic and whatnot?

On second thought, they wouldn't shoot him, not immediately at any rate. After all, if they intended to salvage his organs, then they'd have to‒

Allen contemplated his options, making sure he still had his switchblade on him. Then, pulling out the nearest drawer, he retrieved a Walther PPK and checked for ammunition. It was better to be armed than sorry, but he passed on the silencer; if push really came to shove, then it would probably just get in the way.

The knocking resumed.

Allen got into position. Some would have called it overreacting. Allen would have called it learning from experience. After all, this was by no means the first time that someone had knocked on the door, trying and at one point in time succeeding in luring him out of hiding.

Allen had already managed to get himself abducted once; a decidedly unpleasant experience. So, if possible, then he would rather avoid a repeat of such events. Besides, these days, it wasn't like there was anyone who could be bothered to come and rescue him now, was there? Not that Cross had done much the last time around; most of it had been Allen's own doing, but at least he'd been there as a kind of makeshift insurance, just in case.

This time around, there was no insurance; no safety net whatsoever. Allen only had himself to depend on, and that was fine. It wasn't like Cross had been much to depend on either, so it was simply the matter of getting used to the changes to his living situation.

Skipping town and even the country was pretty high on his list of priorities, but at the same time, Allen was sick and tired of running away. "Say."

The knocking ceased.

"Why are you looking for Allen Walker?"

There was a brief pause; a beat of silence. "Important delivery."

Gun still in hand, Allen pondered the matter. "From whom?"

"Bookman & Junior."

The name sounded vaguely familiar. Still‒ "If this is about getting money back from Cross‒"

-.-.-.-

It wasn't a package; not a bomb either for that matter. It was a thick envelope, and upon it, there was his name written in elegant cursive.

Allen just looked at it; he didn't touch it or anything, and then he looked at the highly peculiar deliveryman who had brought it along. "It would've fit in the mail slot."

"It would've," the redhead readily agreed, in the middle of composing a text to someone. "But the instructions were to deliver it in person."

It looked old. "Who's it from?"

It really couldn't be Cross; Allen knew that man's many hands by heart. This was not one of them.

"Who knows?" Lavi Bookman shrugged a bit helplessly. "I was only told to deliver."

Only told to deliver, huh? Allen sliced open the envelope, intent on getting things over with. "So, why are you still here then?"

There was no response other than a slight widening of the other's grin. Despite finding it immensely unnerving, Allen averted his eyes, pulling out and unfolding the letter.

What met his eye was somewhat surprising. Instead of the expected letters, there were symbols; a code of some sort. However, unlike the earlier hand, these seemed remarkably familiar to him and stirred up some very unwelcome memories. Allen resolutely resisted the instinctual reaction; to get the letter away from him before he was overwhelmed by a surge of unpleasant remembrance. Instead, Allen readily skipped right along to the end, decoding only the part of the sender.

It made no sense. He reread it twice, and it still made no sense. _"Campbell?"_

"As expected."

The voice was behind him now, accompanied by the cocking of a gun; small firearm, going by the sound of it. Allen turned slowly, confirming that the delivery guy had indeed pulled a gun on him. Maybe he ought to put his hands up or something? Or run? Or attack? Or even move?

Instead, he stood his ground, waiting. The other seemed to favour a similar strategy though, the gun steadily trained on him. "So," Allen said at last, considering the merits of going for it, consequences be damned. "Bookman & Junior. Debt collectors? Bounty hunters?"

The trademark grin returned, the aim unwavering. "Executors."

The shot rang out, but there was something strange about it, much like the impact. Allen's hand immediately flew to his shoulder, expecting blood; expecting _something_. Moments thereafter, he found himself staring at some sort of dart. Pulling it out was instinctual and quick, but obviously not quick enough.

The redheaded bastard caught him when he faltered, keeping him upright even as his knees buckled beneath him.

-.-.-.-

It was the slamming of a car door that woke him up initially, but he had been just about to dismiss it all as a dream when there was the sound of another opening, along with a definite changes to air temperature and sounds; the sound of traffic among them.

"Oh good, you're awake."

Awake yes, but for now much too groggy to muster the energy to glare. _"You shot me,"_ Allen wanted to say, but didn't. Instead, he remained as he had awoken, lying on his back and staring at the car's grey interior, one hand resting on his stomach and the other hanging limply over the edge of the seat. Neither his hands nor feet were bound, which was curious, but then again, in his current state, the need for such was debatable.

"Sorry man," the redheaded bastard offered up, not looking sorry in the least. "But the letter isn't the only thing I've been told to deliver."

Go figure. Allen could've cursed him.

-.-.-.-


	2. The Executors

_The second instalment._

 _Edited: August 27_ _th_ _2017_

-.-.-.-

 **The Executors**

-.-.-.-

If there is will, then there is way. And, if there is a Will, then there's definitely an executor out there, sometimes an expert, sometimes not. In the case of this particular Will, it just so happened to be the former.

As the executors of a particularly complex Will, Bookman & Junior had fulfilled their duties.

First, thirty-some years prior, Bookman Senior had ascertained the whereabouts of certain assets in order to keep them safe until distribution. He had also had the Will validated in court; it had taken a while, given its peculiarities, but it had been done. He had also wrapped up some unfinished business, dealt with setting up bank accounts and with necessary payments and taxes. He had also started the search for the benefactors. Since then, both he and his apprentice had also spent a great deal of time tracking down the people who had been named in the Will, which let's be honest, had proven decidedly difficult ‒ or rather, finding the _person_ , in singular.

Allen Walker had proven decidedly difficult to find, even with the clues offered. Once he had been found however, they had been faced with a rather curious problem.

In hindsight, Lavi supposed it made sense though. It was no wonder then that they hadn't been able to locate the guy initially, given that he hadn't even been born yet. Well, at least not if the paperwork wasn't completely fake, because this Allen Walker definitely looked more like a teenager than like a man in his thirties or forties, even taking the white hair into account. In fact, he looked even younger now, sleeping off the effects of a tranquilliser in the backseat of Lavi's car.

During the course of his nineteen-year-old life, Lavi had done a whole lot of things. Being the genius that he was, he had graduated early and at the top of his class before pitching in to assist with his makeshift grandfather's law firm at the age of sixteen while working on attaining his professional qualifications. Abducting someone however, now that was a definite first.

Allen Walker had been a definite flight risk though, and Lavi had had his orders; to deliver the letter to Allen Walker and to deliver an Allen Walker who could read the script back to Bookman & Junior's office.

This particular Allen Walker was actually the fourteenth in the order. After the absolute train wreck that had been the thirteenth, Lavi had resolved to be even more thorough in his background check.

Grabbing his modified tranquiliser gun on the way out had been a spontaneous decision, largely because Lavi had actually read up on the situation before walking straight into it; Allen Walker's prior experiences with people on either side of the law pretty much guaranteed that he wouldn't come along quietly.

Of course, resorting to kidnapping wasn't exactly the ideal way of dealing with things, but at least now Lavi would have the advantage of dealing with them on his home turf. He would also have the advantage of possessing some serious blackmail, should it prove necessary.

Noticing some movement in the rear-view mirror, Lavi pulled in to the side of the road and cut the engine.

Allen Walker, the fourteenth in the order, appeared groggy, but still managed to glare at him once Lavi opened the door to have a closer look and to apologise for the rough treatment. Sort of apologise. Sort of.

Lavi did not apologise for having relieved the other of their weapons though, because Lavi would rather not get shot or stabbed if he could avoid it. "Think you can get up?"

Allen Walker, the fourteenth in the order, regarded him coolly, eyes narrowing.

-.-.-.-

Bookman Senior actually looked up from his paperwork when Lavi stumbled into his office, giving a piggyback ride to Allen Walker, the fourteenth in the order. Bookman narrowed his eyes at the spectacle, yes. However, he did not ask why the beneficiary was draped over his apprentice's back, out cold, or why Lavi himself was now limping and sporting a sizeable facial bruise. "Put him on the couch," the old man simply ordered before returning to his paperwork.

-.-.-.-

Waking up was an experience in itself, not only due to the circumstances but also due to the decidedly posh surroundings. Much like the carpets and the panelling, the furniture looked old but genuine and well-kept; on the market, they would have fetched a pretty penny, no doubt. Highly posh and foreign surroundings or not, the old man seated at the desk looked like he might well have spent most of his life in them, and maybe this wasn't too unlikely, all things considered.

The old man was Bookman, according to his nameplate at least.

Allen was at the Bookman & Junior's office, for reasons unknown. In front of him was a small couch table. Upon was a tray with tea and biscuits, even a couple of sandwiches. After some deliberation, weighing pros and cons and risks, Allen finally tried one of them; it was palatable, to say the very least. "So you're not after my organs?" he asked at last, just to make sure.

The old man, Bookman, shot his apprentice a pointed look.

Giving them both a wide berth, Lavi held up his hands, assuming a somewhat defensive stance on the issue. "I never said anything about organs! Totally innocent."

Having received tentative confirmation that his organs were not in any immediate danger of being removed, Allen figured that he might as well find out what these people wanted, helping himself to another sandwich while he was at it. "So," he said at last, munching on it. "What is it that you people want from me anyway?"

"First and foremost, your cooperation." Bookman handed over a clipboard with an attached form. "Second, we would appreciate a blood sample."

Blood sample? "Why?"

"In order to properly ascertain that we have the right person."

Allen kicked up an eyebrow at that. "Don't you think you should've maybe done that before sending that guy to kidnap me?" he asked and pointed over his shoulder, obviously quite aware of Lavi's position given that he did not even need to turn his head and look.

-.-.-.-

The presumed beneficiary had a point and Lavi would be the first to admit as much. Still‒ "We've done our research," Lavi admitted, and Allen Walker turned his head slightly to regard him with a look that was about seventy percent frosty and about thirty percent curious. "Of course, paperwork can be faulty or purposely falsified. DNA meanwhile is a bit more difficult to fake."

"DNA?" Allen asked at the same time as Bookman Senior clapped his hands together, calling for their attention.

"In both cases, there is the risk of human error and other interference," the old man said, gesturing at the form that still lay on Allen's lap, as of yet unsigned. "In this particular case, there is a particularly high risk of imposters and tampering."

If anything, then Allen's eyebrow only rose higher. "Imposters?"

Rather, Allen Walker seemed to find it hard to imagine a situation wherein someone would actually want to be him; given all the trouble it seemed to involve however, Lavi could hardly blame him.

"That's right," Lavi quipped, nodding to himself. "There's quite a bit of money on the line, so an imposter or half a dozen wouldn't be particularly strange, especially in this economy."

Allen Walker's fingers twitched slightly on top of the form. "For a prank, it's overtly elaborate and pretty bad taste," he delivered at last, moving to stand. "Thanks for the sandwiches and all, but I'm leaving."

Lavi cleared his throat. "Leaving where exactly?"

Allen Walker, the fourteenth in the order, didn't dignify that with a response. Going by his recent search history however, Lavi would put Scotland ahead of Ireland, if for nothing else then because it was too cold to swim very far, and the border controls these days were getting a lot more‒ "I don't know. I guess I'll decide when I get there."

The old man who merely closed his eyes grimly or tiredly in response; Lavi saw it and he didn't like it, because the old man's efforts aside, Lavi himself had put down entirely too much work into tracking down the elusive Allen Walker to see their latest and most promising catch just slip away.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" he groaned, tearing at his hair. "Think of it as a prank or whatever, as long as you listen to what we have to say first. I mean, what do you really have to lose? Cross' total debt exceeded 130,000 pounds last time I checked. Just how do you intend to get that kind of money before the end of the month, considering how you currently have just enough cash to cover the bus fare from here to the other side of town? You do know that selling organs is illegal due to the Human Tissue Act of 2004, right?"

Allen Walker, already on the verge of opening the door, turned his head slightly. "So is kidnapping, since basically forever."

Well, _technically_ ‒ "I still think you staying around and listening to what we have to say is a way safer bet than trying to sell your organs on the black market. Don't you? As a special, limited time offer, I'll even throw in a free punch so long as you promise not to aim for the face."

Allen Walker turned around fully now, looking from Bookman Junior to Bookman Senior, frown evident. "Leaving your law firm to that‒" He pointed to the former. "‒Are you sure it's really such a good idea?"

The old man let out a long-suffering sigh. "Why do you think I have been putting off retirement for so long?"

Lavi was more than ready to protest that, because the old man putting off his retirement had had nothing ‒ or at the very least _very_ little ‒ to do with Lavi's relative inexperience. He paused midway through though, because surprisingly, the admission of Lavi's incompetence seemed to put the beneficiary at ease rather than the opposite. Huh.

"So," Allen Walker said at last, completely ignoring Lavi in favour of his senior. "In case I really turn out to be the Allen Walker that you're looking for, how much am I worth?"

The old man took a moment to consider the issue. "How much you are worth as an individual is difficult to measure. As for the assets that you stand to inherit…" Bookman trailed off briefly and then pulled a paper from the pile, scrutinising it briefly before holding it out towards him. "Would you care to see for yourself?"

-.-.-.-


	3. Arriving at the Estate

_The third instalment._

 _Edited: August 27_ _th_ _2017_

-.-.-.-

 **Arriving at the Estate**

-.-.-.-

If there is will, there is way. And if there is a Will, then…

"Hey, stop giving me that look. I'm giving you a free ride here."

Allen _could_ have argued that he _could_ have taken the train or for that matter the bus. He merely averted his eyes however, and directed his gaze towards the scenery passing by.

They had left the highway just a short while ago, turning into a side road and then into some fairly narrow town road. At this point, they might have been driving for an hour, or possibly three; Allen had probably zoned out somewhere in the middle of it, staring down at the paper in his hand. There were also the stack of papers attached to the clipboard on his lap, but he had only really skimmed through them before going back to the first paper, trying to make sense of it.

" _How much am I worth?"_ Such had been Allen's question.

Bookman had spoken about the assets Allen stood to inherit, and invited him to go see them for himself. Of course, when Allen had accepted, he hadn't exactly been expecting _this_.

"Look, I think we got off to a rough start. I'm Lavi, otherwise known as Bookman Junior. I'm nineteen, single and I'm sorry about the whole drugging and kidnapping thing, but in my defence, you were armed."

Allen seriously wondered why the age or the relationship status was even relevant. Still‒ "Maybe you'd have more luck in relationships if you didn't go around kidnapping people."

The redhead gave a slight snort at that. "I guess I walked right into that one huh? But, for the record‒" He switched gears. "‒You're my first. Consider it an honour."

An honour? Hah! "This better be worth it."

"I honestly couldn't agree with you more."

Allen shot him a look and then stared out the window. Grass, some bushes, some woods, a few hills, a lake, a bunch of fields, and then, a small town. Cobblestones, cobblestones, cobblestones. A church, quaint little streets, empty at this time of the day, save for the retirees and some person of a younger variety, bicycling or walking briskly on their way to some unknown location. They drove past them all though, passing through the town and continuing for a brief while before turning onto an even smaller road‒No, from what Allen could see, it was more of a driveway.

At the entrance, there were two large stone pillars, one on each side of the road. There was no gate however, at least not now, and whatever lay ahead was still obscured by the surrounding greenery.

However, it was not long before they were once again out of the woods, the road now surrounded by a sea of yellow wheat swaying gently in the wind.

Looking at them, Allen experienced a strange kind of nostalgia, and he kept looking back, even once they had made it to their destination.

Lavi had barely even parked the car before Allen slipped out, walking back towards the nearest field. Or, more specifically, towards a small hill just to the side of it.

Once there, Allen crouched down, picking up a charred fragment from the ground. He must have sat there studying it for a while, because suddenly Lavi was there, asking what was the matter, and was that a damned good question or what, because‒ "The tree's gone."

The redhead regarded him with an expression that was about one third confused, one third concerned and one third intrigued. "There was a lightning strike, just last year," Bookman Junior finally volunteered, looking on as Allen straightened back up. "The tree itself had been dead for a while though."

Yeah, Allen knew that. But why? _How?_

He turned, averting his eyes from the fields towards the manor. A powerful gust of wind blew past. The wheat behind them bent down and then began to dance, and Allen got hit by a barrage of conflicting emotions. On one hand, there was the feeling of nostalgia, of _home_. On the other however‒

There was _something_ there, an underlying current of _something_ that made Allen's skin crawl.

Actually, now that Allen got a really good look at the place, this somewhat rundown manor looked an awful lot like something out of a murder mystery novel. Or something. It looked haunted, and Allen didn't even believe in ghosts.

In hindsight, he should probably have told them to just go ahead and sell the place. He really should have, without ever setting foot in it. But‒ "How long has it stood empty?"

The redhead pulled out a key ring with an absolutely ridiculous number of keys and started sorting through them one by one as they made their way towards the back of the manor, because apparently, they couldn't enter from the front. "Well, no one's really lived in it for a while as far as I know, not permanently at any rate. But there is this caretaker who comes by to tend to the grounds, for the most part."

"Caretaker?"

There was a slight pause. "He lives just outside of the town," Lavi finally volunteered, if a bit reluctantly. "He's a bit… special, I guess? But he's been at it for at least twenty years, so…"

 _Special_? "Are we talking the harmless kind of special or the might-drug-and-abduct-me kind of special?"

Allen got a decidedly exasperated look for that, even though the question was perfectly justified. "You really know how to nurse a grudge, don't you?"

Really. "It was literally yesterday!"

"Yeah, but for the record," Bookman Junior went on, shoving the correct key into the keyhole. "He might not be the smartest, but he's one of the kindest people I know. He takes in injured wildlife and nurses them back to health. The deer in this area are crazy about him, I swear. They sometimes show up just to lick him."

Sometimes? "And how often have you been here?"

Lavi twisted the key in the lock and pulled the door open; it creaked, and quite loudly and ominously at that. "A couple of times," he responded and held the door open for him. "You first."

Some part of Allen would rather just have turned and left right then and there, but‒ _"Fine."_

-.-.-.-

 _Gloomy_. That was Allen's first impression of the place. His second was _dusty_ , because it sure as Hell was. There were large cobwebs as well, and they were all the more apparent once Lavi turned the lights on, revealing the outline of furniture draped in greyish white, dust-covered sheets like some sort of ghostly spectres. "Well," Allen said after having spent about a minute just looking around. "This place is a dump."

"Hah, you should've seen it the first time," Lavi responded, pulling out his cell phone to check the time before pocketing it again. "Now it's just dusty. I would have asked the guy if he could at least come and vacuum for a bit, but… I'd rather not."

Rather not? "And why is that?"

The redhead went really quiet at that. "His… foster mother, I guess. She died, just a couple of days ago."

Allen honestly wasn't sure how to react to that. Still− "Yeah, that would've been pretty bad. Like, _'look, I know you're grieving and all, but I really need you to clean this place up. I've just drugged and kidnapped someone and I need to show them the house tomorrow'_."

"Honestly. You've made your point. Kidnapping is bad. I shall refrain from it in the future."

"And drugging people?"

"‒is obviously bad, but at this point, I'm considering knocking myself out. Feel free to have a look around though. The house's practically yours after all."

Hoh. "Where are you going?"

"Outside. I need to make a call and the reception's better outside. But don't worry." Lavi held his hands up, his smile apologetic if a bit strained. "I promise I won't be negotiating organs prices with my contacts on the black market."

The sarcasm was evident. Still‒ "Then what?"

Lavi gave a somewhat dismissive wave at that. "I'm calling to make an appointment with my dentist. I think you knocked one of my teeth loose yesterday."

Well… it wasn't impossible, per se, because Allen knew himself quite capable of delivering a mean punch. "Be glad it wasn't your nose."

Or another, far more sensitive part of his anatomy…

Lavi just waved him off though, walking briskly in the direction from which they had come, which, naturally, left Allen standing there alone in some sort of sitting room. There was a sofa in there, covered by a white sheet like so many other things. Allen briefly considered removing it and taking a seat, but ultimately opted against it. Instead, he moved on to the next room, which curiously enough featured a large round table surrounded by chairs. Absentmindedly, Allen counted them. There were fourteen, although six of them seemed to be in a pretty bad shape. Still, a fairly odd number.

Allen did not stay long however, stepping past them and through the next room. Soon, he found himself standing in front of a large staircase. It was fairly dark however, and with no obvious light switch in sight, Allen used the flashlight on his cell phone. It only provided so much light, but Allen could still tell that he had incidentally found his way into the antechamber. He directed the flashlight towards the large oak double doors. Now he could clearly see that they had been bolted shut, which explained why it had not been possible to enter from the front. Still‒ "Needlessly big."

Manors such as this one cost a lot of money to maintain. Given that this one had apparently stood largely empty for at least ten to twenty years, Allen could only imagine how much money had already been poured into it. This in turn made him wonder just how much was actually left of the sum he was supposed to inherit, and how large it had been from the start. However, more than that, he wondered about the _who_ and the _why_ and the _how_ of this whole situation.

Then again, he already knew _who_ , technically speaking; the letter had been signed after all. So, that left the _why_ , as in why would these people leave him anything, and the _how_ , as in how could they possibly have known about him, given that the letter had allegedly been written and filed many years before he was even born. Then again‒

He startled violently as a large clock somewhere began chiming. _Dong. Dong. Dong_.

For a few moments, he simply stood there, frozen. Only his eyes moved, scanning his surroundings as though the source of the sound would suddenly appear out of nowhere, which was pretty stupid, because clocks did not move. Besides, the sound did not come from below. It came from above.

 _Dong_.

There. At the top of the staircase. A tall shape covered in a white sheet. Well, greyish.

 _Dong_.

There was something off with the sound though. Maybe it was broken or something?

 _Dong_. Allen looked back towards the door from which he had entered; Bookman Junior was nowhere in sight. _Dong_. That phone call of his was taking an awful lot of time. _Dong_. He had probably lied about the dentist appointment. _Dong_. He had definitely lied about the dentist appointment. It hardly mattered though, not much at any rate.

By the time that the clock had stopped chiming, Allen was already at the top of the staircase, mere steps away from it. Up close, it looked fairly imposing; the outline at least. But Allen did not hesitate. Instead, he extended his hand, grabbing hold of the dusty fabric and gave it a sharp tug.

Dust whirled around him, visible in the light from his phone. He had forgotten to charge it, so the batteries were running low. Thus, it was only a question of time before it would start complaining. But, the clock.

Allen supposed this had to be what people called a grandfather clock; this was probably his first time seeing one. Probably. It looked fairly old. Allen might have found its appearance on the gaudy side, but if it had actually ran on the same batteries and had been running on those same batteries for the last couple of years, then‒ did grandfather clocks even run on batteries? Or were they wound up? If it was the latter, then‒

Allen tried to open it up, but it was locked. Why anyone would find it necessary to lock a clock was honestly beyond him, but if he was still interested in finding out once he headed back, then Allen figured he could just try and break it open or something. Or try his luck with lock picking, should he find anything to fashion into a decent lock pick.

For now though, he just moved on, intent upon exploring what he could before Junior returned.

-.-.-.-


	4. Exploring the Estate

_The fourth instalment (wherein things take a somewhat unexpected turn…)_

-.-.-.-

 **Exploring the Estate**

-.-.-.-

Having parted ways with the large Grandfather clock, Allen kept moving. Soon he found himself inside a hallway that was lined with a number of doors. He tried the first to his right. It was unlocked, but the hinges sure screamed when he pulled it open to peer inside.

On the other side was a bedroom, sparsely decorated save for the king-sized bed beneath a canopy of embroidered stars. The thick curtains were drawn, blocking out most of the daylight coming in from the window. Allen resisted a surfacing urge to pull them aside.

Instead, he tried the door to the left. Another dim bedroom met his eye and he swiftly moved on to the next door in line, finding yet another one. Wondering just how many bedrooms one manor could possibly need, Allen tried yet another door. This time around, he had better luck.

The curtains were parted, and Allen immediately switched off his phone's flashlight to preserve what little still remained of the battery. Slipping the phone back into his pocket, he then proceeded to scrutinise his surroundings.

Going by the large desk situated by the window at the room's farther end, Allen would have classified it as an office. The crammed bookshelves lining the walls meanwhile gave the impression of a small library. And then there was the piano, which stood right up against the shelves. There was also another clock, right next to the room's entrance, but this one had seemingly stopped.

Curiously, none of the furniture had been covered up; a thick layer of dust now covered them, giving them a matted grey appearance. Allen dragged his fingertip along the cover for the piano keys and stared at it, because that was some serious dust. With a slight scoff, he wiped his hand on his jeans.

"Might as well sell anything that can be sold," he muttered quietly, addressing no one in particular. Besides, if no one wanted the stuff, then there were other alternatives. Making a merry and not so little bonfire out of them seemed fairly close at hand. Then again, was there really anything preventing him from setting the whole manor alight, just to spare himself the trouble of sorting through everything? Maybe if he was skilful enough, he could make it look like arson and get some insurance money out of the deal and rid himself of this decidedly haunted-looking and creepy manor in one go?

Blasphemous or not, the idea held merit. Well, some merit at least. Who knew what lay behind these panels after all. The walls might just be rotten, full of mould or asbestos or whatever. Well, that or something priceless, Allen supposed, even though the odds were not too great for that. Still‒

There was something about it, about the room and about the place in general. It was not unlike nostalgia, except it also held some tinge, some nuance, that made his skin crawl. It had been way stronger outside, so strong that Allen had practically been able to taste it. The office triggered no such response; it gave off a certain vibe, sure, but it was neither particularly nostalgic nor particularly creepy. However, fact remained that there was definitely something there, almost a presence in itself; maybe not a ghost per se, but definitely something, like a quiet buzz from unseen electronical equipment.

Allen checked the desk.

Desks typically held important things, such as keys and documents and such. However, they were also the most obvious place for people to look for such things. Thus, taking what little he knew about the manor's former owner into consideration, Allen decided that the desk was a rather unlikely hiding place for anything important. However, even though the desk itself was not important, the room probably held its share of secrets. The question that remained was whether or not Allen should pursue them or find another room to explore.

He pondered the matter for a few moments before making up his mind and setting right to work.

Going by how most of the drawers seemed to have been disturbed at some point, it seemed as though someone else had also been snooping around, likely to no avail. Allen did not waste much time on pondering the fact however, and instead lowered himself slightly, trying to determine the right angle.

You see, Allen had found that people ‒ not _everyone_ , per se, but certain people who fancied themselves to be a lot cleverer than the rest of them ‒ preferred to keep their secrets safe by hiding them in plain sight. Not completely in the open, of course, because then just about anyone could happen to stumble upon them, but also not in places where someone looking for hidden things would necessarily care to look.

Allen spied over the edge of the desk, trying to determine a possible location. After scanning the room for a bit, he came up with three likely hiding spaces; the piano, the bookshelf closest to the door and the clock. He probably wouldn't have the time to properly search all three of them before he once again had Bookman Junior hovering over his shoulder. In truth, he didn't _have to_ search at all, but after having come all this way, he might as well.

The clock, he thought, but then, right when he was about to move away from the desk, there was a sharp thump against the window right behind him. Allen turned, catching a glimpse of a sparrow before it vanished from his line of sight. Walking up to the window, Allen peered out, wondering whether it had crashed or managed to save itself onto a nearby window sill. It hadn't fallen right down, so it probably hadn't broken its neck, so… Why did Allen care again?

With a sigh, he reached up to open the window. The latch was a bit stuck, but it took just some additional effort on Allen's part to get the window open. A breeze eagerly accepted the invitation, blowing past him and through the room, disturbing up until then largely undisturbed layers of dust. Allen sneezed, once, twice and then, right about when he was about to close the window back up, he noticed something. Several things as a matter of fact.

From the office window, Allen had excellent view of a fairly large portion of the property. Among the first things he saw was Bookman Junior, pacing back and forth close to the car. The redhead seemed to be quite into his phone call, given how he didn't even look up when Allen had opened the window. No person had such long and intense discussions with their dentists; that much was obvious. Allen briefly considered taking the heavy-looking paperweight from the desk and throwing it, just to determine if that would elicit a reaction. Also, the accuracy of his aim and how far he could throw it.

It would probably be a pretty bad idea though, because what if he smashed the car's windshield or something?

Abandoning the thought, Allen looked past the car, gaze settling upon the small hill.

On one hand, it seemed a bit too easy as far as hiding places went. On the other meanwhile…

Treasures were typically buried, were they not?

Mind made up, Allen pulled the window back shut and turned on his heel, heading for the door. However, he had scarcely even exited the room before there was another thump. A loud one. Then another, slightly more muted. Not a rat. Much bigger. Footfalls, Allen realised, horrified when he heard the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking open from close by.

It was the door on the opposite side, among the ones he hadn't tried to open, and the door handle was moving. So was Allen, even before the door was pulled open. He didn't even look back before he had just about rounded the corner. He paused only momentarily, just long enough to get a decent look of the intruder.

The intruder stared right back. It was a dishevelled and scruffy-looking man wearing some rather ugly coke-bottle glasses. Vagrant, Allen thought. Possibly an addict. Possibly a very nice person. Probably the former rather than the latter. In any case, Allen was not about to deal with them without a proper weapon at hand, and as things were, he knew exactly where to find one.

-.-.-.-

"Hey! What's the rush?"

Allen didn't even dignify that one with a response, closing and locking the door behind him. While making his way back, bumping into some furniture along the way, he had been forced to quicken his pace because that other bastard had started following him. "Give me those damned keys," he demanded instead, impatiently presenting his hand, palm facing upwards.

The redhead blinked, clutching the keys tighter. "To the house?"

That had been the original plan, plan A. However, as the situation had developed, Allen had already moved on to plan B. "The car."

A frown. "Can you even drive?"

Well, no, but− "I'll take my chances."

That got him another look, but Allen was temporarily distracted by the fact that there was an intruder, an intruder that was following him. For now though, he was unable to properly articulate the fact. Instead, he said the next best thing that came to mind. "Gun."

There was yet another look. "Gun?"

"That handy little tranquilizer of yours," Allen hissed, casting a nervous look over his shoulder.

"Why would I have it?"

Allen tore his eyes away from the door to level the redhead with a glare. Because.

" _Fine_ ," Bookman Junior finally relented. "I did bring it. What about−?"

The doorknob started turning. Out of the corner of his eye, Allen saw Junior's face go slightly pale, which likely meant that they were not in cahoots. Silver lining.

"Who's there?" Junior demanded, pulling out the modified tranquiliser, readying it.

The doorknob stilled, but only briefly. "Who's asking?"

Allen made a half-hearted to utilise Junior's shift in focus to snatch the gun from his grip, but Lavi noticed and raised it high enough for him not to reach it. "Someone representing the owner," Lavi said, his inner turmoil barely audible.

"Owner?" the voice repeated from the other side, seemingly surprised. "This place is supposed to be abandoned."

"Just because a house isn't used very often doesn't mean it's okay for you to just break in," Lavi said, his voice on the neutral side but his gaze never wavering from Allen, who glared right back at him.

"I got caught up in a storm a while back and needed a roof over my head," said the voice. "I found the place and decided to take a closer look," the man continued.

This time around, Lavi's eyebrows furrowed slightly, presumably in response to that load of bullshit. "This whole area is private property," he said, voice serious now. "Either way, you're trespassing."

The response was surprisingly quick and unconcerned. "I'm _exploring_. It comes with the territory."

Territory? "Exploring?" Lavi repeated, evidently critical.

Again, the response was quick. "Urban exploring. Urbex. Ever heard of it?"

No. "It sounds very illegal," Lavi commented, attention flittering briefly towards the door.

"Most fun things are," the voice added, seeming to find some degree of humour in it all.

Bookman Junior meanwhile looked decidedly unamused, which was somehow even creepier than him wearing his trademark grin, and then he pulled out his phone. "I'm calling the police. But before that…"

The serious gaze shifted and levelled upon Allen. "Are you okay?"

No matter what Allen might have had against the guy, there was no mistaking the earnest concern directed his way. Still− "I'm _fine_. My phone's dead though."

"Physically fine or mentally fine?" Lavi prompted, ignoring the comment about the phone.

Allen didn't respond. Well, to be specific, he didn't respond to Lavi, because the intruder had asked something just now, about the phone. "It's last year's model. I won it in a poker game."

The intruder let out a slight whistle. "Any good?"

Allen looked towards the door, curiosity beginning to overpower his earlier apprehension. "My phone or my poker skills?"

"Ah, that model's crap. I know, because I have it. I do have a charger though. Here somewhere. I'll let you borrow it if you manage to defeat me."

Allen blinked. "In combat?"

"I was thinking poker, but… Why not play a little game?"

"That's a very SAW-like thing to say," Lavi cut into the conversation, grabbing hold of Allen's hood, pulling him farther away from the door. "I'm sure the police would looooove to hear all about it."

Allen didn't take kindly to getting grabbed. At all. And with the gun still out of reach, that left just one alternative. The phone. Because in-between dealing with a single intruder on one hand and a weird solicitor backed by representatives of the authorities Allen would much rather continue avoiding on the other, well−

"Hey!"

Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea ever, but in Allen's defence, he had technically been kidnapped less than twenty-four hours prior to this.

What did he do? Well, his plan of action went something like this:

Step one: Snatch the phone.

Step two: Hurl the phone out the open backdoor.

Step three: Make a mad dash for the other door. The locked door. The door he had just locked to keep out (or in) the intruder.

Step four: Profit?

Well, such had been the plan. He only just barely made it past step three, grabbing hold of the doorknob just as the world lurched and his knees buckled beneath him. He turned his head slightly, to glare in Bookman Junior's general direction. Allen didn't bother wasting time on removing the dart. Instead, in a final show of defiance, he unlocked the door.

-.-.-.-

He woke up disoriented, but not really uncomfortable. Granted, the mattress was a bit too bouncy for his tastes, but the covers were warm and heavy, smelling of unfamiliar cologne and just a hint of cigarettes. It was probably the latter that really pulled at his consciousness, because the smell of tobacco evoked uncomfortable memories. Even so, he rolled over, burrowing his face into the pillow. Tobacco. Aftershave. Shampoo?

He cracked an eye open. As the world drifted back into focus, he saw his phone, charging on the nightstand. Nightstand. Bed. Bedroom. Where the heck?

He made a half-hearted attempt to get up. It was only partially successful. The covers were so heavy, so warm, and the outside world so chilly. Still−

The floors were cold, hellishly so, and so was the door handle when he laid his hand upon it.

He could hear some noise, but only in the distance. Voices? Music? Radio?

He opened the door and was immediately startled.

"Ah, you're up. I was just about to go and check on you."

It was the intruder. The same voice at any rate. When it came to appearance on the other hand… "Who're you again?"

The ugly glasses were gone and the hair was smoothed back now rather than unkempt, and the hint of a stubble on the chin was gone as well. He was even wearing a dress shirt of all things, even if it looked slightly out of place combined with denim. "I never gave you my name, did I? In any case−" A row of surprisingly white teeth was bared in a smile and a hand extended towards him. "−Tyki Mikk."

"Allen," Allen eventually volunteered, reaching out to grasp it. "Where's−?"

"The fiery redhead?" Tyki interrupted, giving his hand a slight squeeze while levelling him with a surprisingly and somewhat unnervingly intent look. "He's downstairs, handcuffed to a radiator for now. I figured I'd wait until you were awake before doing anything else, so…"

Huh? "Handcuffs?"

"Hey, don't give me that sort of look. They're not mine. I found them in that guy's car."

Allen pressed a hand against his forehead, still a bit fuzzy around the edges. "…Why am I not surprised?"

The guy, this Tyki guy, was quiet for a moment. He was probably staring. "Who's that guy anyway?" he said at last, scratching the back of his head. "He said something about representing the owner?"

Owner, Allen privately thought, because that was him, supposedly. "…No idea. I've only known him for about a day. He's the Junior part of Bookman & Junior, some sort of law firm."

The man let out a thoughtful hum at that. "What about you then? That guy's been pretty persistent when it comes to you. That little tranquiliser gun of his is pretty interesting though, really nifty."

Gun. Allen looked up. "Where is it?"

The smile directed his way was wry but friendly, at least at first glance. "I might give you a clue if you tell me a bit about yourself."

Allen narrowed his eyes slightly at that. "Give and take."

The man started walking again, motioning for him to follow. "Well, as I've already told you, I'm Tyki Mikk, I'm something of a free spirit with a passion for exploring abandoned places and living pretty off the grid. I came across this place about ten months ago and I've been back three times since. It's still got the power on and the water's still running, and I'm between leases right now so I thought 'Hey, why not camp out here for a bit.'"

He paused in his step and turned partially, smiling apologetically this time around. "Sorry for startling you back there by the way, but in my defence, you startled me first. I was sleeping and not expecting company."

Allen didn't really feel like he owed anyone an apology. Still− "Sorry for overreacting…"

"It was a pretty sane reaction, I think," Tyki said, flicking on the light switch to the antechamber. "Not all squatters are the friendly sort."

"Are you?"

The question brought the man to a stop, and he turned, eyeing Allen with seeming curiosity. "That depends on the company."

Allen pointed to himself.

The man smiled. "I don't think I'd mind being friends with you. I mean, I did carry you all the way back to my campsite so that you wouldn't have to sleep on some dusty sofa downstairs."

Yeah, Allen kind of figured. "Piggyback or bridal style?"

The man let out an amused snort. "Would you be mad if it was the latter?"

Mad, no. Embarrassed, yes. "No."

"It was the former−" Nice. "−You hungry?"

Allen's stomach answered for him, growling loudly. Normally, Allen would have been embarrassed. At this point though, he was far beyond that. "Yeah…"

"Are chicken noodles okay with you?"

As if Allen would ever say no to free food.

-.-.-.-


	5. Insurance and Assurance

_The fifth instalment (wherein Lavi tries to mend relations)_

-.-.-.-

 **Insurance and Assurance**

-.-.-.-

"I can't believe this…"

Quite frankly, neither could Allen, but for now, his priorities lay elsewhere.

Allen had eaten a lot of chicken noodles in his lifetime, but none that had tasted quite as good as these.

"Hey."

Delicious.

" _Hey!_ Would you mind helping me out here? My nose is really itchy."

Allen slowly lifted his gaze from the bowl and, while chewing, levelled it upon Bookman Junior, who was handcuffed to one of the kitchen radiators. Then, after swallowing, Allen continued to dedicate himself to his latest meal.

"Hey! Don't ignore me! I'm not asking you to pick my nose for me, because I would very much like to pick it myself, and− How come you're so damn chill about all of this?"

Said the supposedly benevolent abductor to the abductee.

Allen gave a slight shrug, because− "I seem to have run out of fucks to give. They'll replenish eventually." Or not. Possibly not.

"Don't you care about the fact that that squatter guy could very well be stealing your inheritance right now?"

Well− "So could you," Allen noted, eyeing Lavi from over by the table.

The redhead gave a dramatic eyeroll at that. "Oh, _puh-lease_. If we wanted to keep the money to ourselves, then we could have simply put a wee bit less effort into tracking down the designated heir instead of going through thirteen different Allen Walkers to no avail."

"Thirteen?"

"Fourteen, counting you," Lavi elaborated, giving him a very intent look. "But you do seem to be the real deal."

Draining what little still remained of the noodles, Allen opted to forego that comment, at least for now. "This place's insured, right?"

-.-.-.-

' _This place's insured, right?'_ An unnerving question if Lavi ever heard one. Still− "It is. Why?"

Allen Walker shifted slightly in his seat, regarding Lavi with newfound interest. "So, hypothetically, if this place burned down−"

Whoa. "Whoa, whoa, no. Don't."

"Don't what?" Allen asked, very innocently. Very.

"You're planning on burning the house down."

There was a slight head tilt at that. "Did I say I was?"

Really. "You were definitely thinking it."

There was a mild shrug at that. "Accidents happen. Especially in old houses with old wiring. And dust. That too."

Yeah… "I'll have you know that the wiring in this place is in excellent condition."

Allen's gaze shifted slightly to the side. "Someone could leave the stove on."

Yeah… "Someone could just buy a microwave instead. Heck, I'd even buy one for you."

Heck, Lavi would buy fifty of them. In any case− "Hey, where is that squatter guy anyway?"

Allen perked up slightly at that. "Tyki?"

Lavi did not like this, and he made no great secret of it. "Yeah, _Tyki_."

"Tyki's uploading some footage to his laptop," Allen stated, depositing the now empty bowl into the sink.

On one hand, some part of Lavi recognised the fact that he would rather not know. On the other however− "Footage?"

"Urbex stuff. I think," Allen muttered, scrolling through his phone.

The fact that the phone was no longer dead indicated that the squatter had told the truth about something at the very least. Still− "Say…" Lavi began, trying to choose his words carefully. "If you honestly cannot withstand the urge to commit arson, at least have the decency to check out the secret passages first."

It was a gamble, sure, but considering how Allen immediately looked up, it seemed to be paying off. "Secret passages?" he said, attention now on Lavi rather than the phone.

If anything, then Lavi would very much like to keep it there. "Yes, and a few hidden rooms as well. I had a friend of mine hook up my phone to an experimental radar sensor a while back."

Speaking of which, Lavi really had to give Johnny a call; he had been way too caught up in his search as of late and thus neglected keeping up with one of the few people he regarded as a friend and who regarded him as a friend in return.

"Why?"

It took a few moments for Lavi to recall what Allen was asking about. "Because it's my _job_ ," Lavi responded, thinking about the lock pick hidden in his left sock, so close yet so far away, given that his arms were tethered above his head. It was not comfortable, not at all.

"It's your job. To snoop," Allen said, eyes narrow.

It was not a question, not really, but Lavi still felt the need to clarify. "To ascertain the whereabouts of assets and to keep them safe until distribution; _that_ is my job, or at least a decent part of it."

"Yeah, whatever."

Yeah, well− "Really though, you better help me unlock these cuffs."

The look sent his way was dismissive. "What happens if I don't?"

What indeed. Lavi forced a smile onto his face. "Are you _really_ sure you wanna wait and find out?" he asked, deliberately flippant.

Allen simply tilted his head again, eyeing him seeming thoughtfulness. "For me, the question is: Which is worse?"

On one hand, Lavi felt bad about having inspired this kind of caution. On the other though, well− "Look, I promise not to drug you again." Maybe not the smartest thing he could have said, but in any case− "I would never harm you. Not intentionally at any rate."

If anything, then it was the opposite. Now if only the brat would realise this for himself.

"Because I'm too valuable?" Allen asked mockingly, tilting his head the other way. "Besides," he added, smiling. "You can't, because Tyki's already confiscated your gun."

To be fair, Lavi could think of at least a dozen ways, just on the top of his head. Still− "To be fair, you are valuable, but you're also a kid. Also, the Old Man would kill me."

Probably. The old man had not actually uttered anything along those lines, but Lavi had the distinct feeling that the man might kill him twice if anything untoward happened to the long-awaited beneficiary. Speaking of which−

The beneficiary was crouching down before him now, regarding him through narrowed eyes. "I don't trust you," Allen said.

That much went without saying. Still− "We'll work on that." They would have to, because there was no living with this in the longer term.

"What happens if I decide to leave you like this?"

Unpleasant or not, it was a perfectly valid question, and so, Lavi opted to answer it with some degree of sincerity. "For now, nothing. I'd be annoyed, yes, but nothing too horrible would happen. Give it a few more hours however…"

He very deliberately trailed off before looking back at the beneficiary to deliver the most essential piece of info. "I was supposed to check in with the Old Man roughly fifteen minutes ago."

The eyes narrowed even further. "Liar."

"Well, technically, the deadline was ten minutes ago, but the clock back at the office is about five minutes off," Lavi explained, perfectly sincere. Well, more or less.

"That doesn't mean he'd be able to do anything," Allen argued. "He's in London."

"There are phones," Lavi dutifully notified him.

"He wouldn't call the police…" Allen said, sounding less certain now.

"Perhaps," Lavi acknowledged, tilting his head slightly to one side. "But there are others."

"Others?" Allen echoed; Lavi could tell that he was unnerved now.

"Are you sure you want to find out?" Lavi asked, smiling now, because the situation, which had up until then proven rather unfavourable, was about to turn in his favour.

"What guarantees are there that you won't bring them in anyway?" Allen asked at last.

None. Still− "Isn't my word good enough for you?"

The expression that crossed Allen's face said a whole lot about what he thought about that, and the words that followed it only added to it. "You say one thing and do the other."

It was a fair assessment, really. Still− "I might diverge from my word at times, but only on special occasions."

"Such as?" Allen questioned, tone somewhere in-between annoyed and something else.

Nevertheless, Lavi had a ready answer at hand. "How about preventing my volatile charge from getting involved with something really risky? As much as you might've taken a shine to that squatter guy, he might just be an addict, and evicting squatters can be a really messy affair, so…"

The beneficiary levelled him with a serious, considering look. Because Lavi knew that in spite of recent evidence of the contrary, Allen was still cautious, generally speaking. Which in turn made it so very interesting and also unnerving just how quickly Allen seemed to have relaxed his guard around the guy. It was eerie, to be frank, and so was the fact that Lavi was positive that he had seen the guy somewhere. He hadn't realised it at first, with the glasses and dishevelled hair and all, but now−

He needed to gather information. And check to see if his phone was still in working condition, of course.

-.-.-.-


	6. Remembrance

_The sixth instalment (wherein some digging is done)_

-.-.-.-

 **Remembrance**

-.-.-.-

" _Good morning. Today is December 25_ _th_ _, and boy, have I been looking forward to this."_

 _The camera shifts towards the house. There is snow on the ground, not a lot, but enough of it. Tyki angles the camera back towards his face._

" _I could have done without the snow though. It makes sneaking in a wee bit trickier. Not that it's really a problem or anything, since it's mostly just deer around here. Anyways, it's bloody cold out here so let's get inside."_

 _He walks for a bit, snow crunching underneath his feet, and he directs the camera back towards the house._

" _Mind you, this really isn't my first time exploring this place, but my phone ran out of battery the last time around, so here goes. I'll talk more once we get inside."_

-.-.-.-

Appetite momentarily sated, Allen remained in the kitchen, eyes on the video that was playing on the screen. "December 25th…"

A good date and a bad one, as far as Allen himself was concerned. That said though− "Do all urban explorers narrate so goddamned much or is it just you?"

Tyki chuckled, just as the face of the Tyki in the video reappeared. The latter was smiling, gesturing over his shoulder where he stood, surrounded by darkness. _"This here is a secret passage; I stumbled upon it quite literally last time I was here."_ The smile broadened just a fraction. _"It's a bit of a funny story actually; I was moving stealthily through the woods and bam, I got my foot stuck. I mean, I initially thought it might've been a rabbit hole or something, but upon closer inspection, it turned out that it was actually a pretty rotten hatch. And so, here we are. It's pretty damn dark down here, don't you think? Well, fortunately, there are methods to deal with that."_

Said methods consisted of a headlamp, apparently.

" _Now, there's not a whole lot to see down here, let's be honest, but I thought it would still be nice to show it to you guys. What can I say? It adds to the atmosphere, I guess. Well, anyways, here's what I've learned so far: This place used to belong to some sort of noble family. Counts, barons, dukes, that kind of thing. I know the name and I've done some research on it, but I haven't really come up with anything conclusive for now. Well, barring the fact that the family seems to have been a bunch of oddballs, that is. This place's previous owner in particular, but we'll talk more about this later."_

Down below, Lavi muttered something about people blatantly bragging about multiple instances of trespassing, of breaking and entering and all that. That said, Allen figured the guy could not be all that unappreciative, seeing that the crimes were obviously fairly well documented and all. "Hey!" Speaking of whom. "Do you mind? I can't really see anything from down here."

Yeah, and Allen really failed to see the problem. "You can watch once I'm finished."

"And only if you ask nicely," Tyki added, more playfully than anything, all while the images on the screen brightened again to reveal a frost-tinted window.

" _It's pretty cold, but not as cold as one would expect,"_ video-Tyki mused, angling the camera to show as he put his hand on the kitchen radiator. _"As I thought, it's a little warm. And as you can see−"_ He flicked the light switch. _"There's electricity."_

Allen didn't really get what was so damned interesting about watching this kind of thing. Even so, he found himself doing just that, all while video-Tyki opened and closed the kitchen tap, noting the lack of running water. " _No water, but_ _I think it's only for the winter months, because when I was here last time around, there was running water. I think it's turned off now because frozen waterpipes suck. So, somebody's obviously taking care of the property. Nobody lives here though, not for long periods at any rate… Anyways, let me show you around…"_

On one hand, Allen questioned the need for the video, seeing that they were in the building. Therefore, it would have been just as easy (no, _easier_ ) to just give a guided tour. On the other hand, Allen found that he could appreciate it, because the headache and wooziness of getting tranquilised again wasn't doing him any favours right now and he might just trip down a staircase if he wasn't careful. Speaking of which− _"Look at this place! And it's not even trashed, barring those chairs back there. No graffiti, no broken windows, no nothing. Also, there's this. The front entrance. Someone really didn't want company. That said though, the kitchen entrance isn't nearly as heavily fortified. I'd say you'd get in even with a lockpick. Anyways, let's head upstairs…"_

The video showed a hand dragging along the railing, gathering dust. _"This place could really use a spring cleaning though. Or a few. I don't think there's any asbestos in here though, or any black mould from what I've seen, so kudos to that. Anyways, we're heading upstairs. And upstairs we find this."_

The covered grandfather clock came into view, and as the camera was brought closer to it, its distinct ticking could be heard and quite clearly at that. _"Weird, isn't it? Anyways, let's keep going. And here's a bedroom, and another, and another, and yet another. It makes you wonder just how many people used to live here at some point, or if the latest oddball had the habit of switching beds every night. There are at least seven bedrooms in here, so that'd probably work. It'd mean seven times as many bedsheets to wash though, I guess."_

It felt good to have someone else acknowledge the weirdness of it all. Still− "Isn't it weird to go on narrating like this? Does anyone even watch these things?"

"I had about fifteen thousand subscribers last time I checked, but I haven't logged on in a while. So yeah, a few," Tyki commented.

Lavi sputtered something, but Allen paid it no heed.

" _Oh? Uh-oh…"_ the cell phone was angled towards the nearby window. The image blurred slightly as the camera struggled to find a good focus point. _"Someone's coming. Shoot. I was not expecting this. Doesn't look like a security guard though. Maybe a thief, or an explorer like myself. But are they are really going to be so bold as to enter through the door? Well, I better go hide somewhere until I figure out what we're dealing with…"_

The quality of the footage was too low and the distance too great to distinguish finer details. That said though, there was something about the general outline of the man that bothered him, because if Allen was not completely mistaken, that was indeed a–

Allen drew a sharp breath as a spike of pain penetrated his skull. He pressed a hand against his forehead, momentarily overcome with a bout of light-headedness. Then along came a sudden wave of nausea, and Allen had to screw his eyes shut and employ a great amount of self-control not to puke, ears ringing.

Gradually, he became aware of voices, but the ringing in his ears prevented him from making much sense of them. Then, just as suddenly, the ringing began to fade, and Allen opened his eyes to find Tyki looking down at him. Lavi was also there, and they both looked a bit−

"Allen," Tyki said, and Allen looked at him, wondering why he seemed so familiar. Also, why he was upside-down. "Do you know _where_ you are?"

Well, going by the angle− "The floor." And partially on Tyki's lap.

"Do you know _why_?"

Allen didn't know, per se, but he could certainly guess. "I passed out?"

"Yep," Tyki affirmed, leaning down. "Does it happen often?"

He answered without really thinking. "Sometimes, when I remember things."

Someone drew a sharp breath and Allen shifted his gaze towards Lavi. He had this strange look on his face; it was very distracting. But really, so were the fingers brushing lightly against the side of his face.

Allen looked up at Tyki, whose expression carried a strange kind of fondness. "Fucking sucks, doesn't it?" Tyki commented. "Remembering."

Allen couldn't agree more, honestly. Still− "I'm really confused right now."

Tyki's expression brightened even further. "Welcome to the club!" he said.

Wordlessly, Allen rolled unto his side and sat up, cradling his head. "There's something," he muttered, mostly to himself. "Something hidden underneath the tree…"

"Hoh?" Tyki hummed, sounding vaguely intrigued.

-.-.-.-

Lavi rubbed his sore wrists, one part annoyed, one part intrigued and a fairly large part concerned.

"We're gonna need a shovel."

Lavi did not like this, like at all. But, since they had finally decided to unlock the handcuffs, he decided to be helpful and to point them towards the garden shed. While tempted to go looking for his phone in the meantime, Lavi was not about to let the pair out of his sight if he could help it.

Because this Tyki guy was shady as Hell, much too eager to go along with the whims of a person he had supposedly known for mere hours. Normally, Lavi would have put the guy down as just another opportunist, lured in by the prospects of wealth. However, if so, then it would have made a whole lot more sense if he had just taken off the moment he had been discovered instead of actively seeking them out.

And then, of course, there was Allen, and oh boy, where should Lavi even get started on that. The thing supposedly hidden underneath the tree – well, what remained of it – seemed like a decent starting point. After all, Allen's very first action upon arriving at the property had been to head for that exact place, hadn't it?

" _The tree's gone."_

Back then, Lavi had thought of it as curious, yes, but at the time, concern had stopped him from delving farther into it. After all, Allen had only seemed partially aware of his own actions, which while interesting on one hand was definitely alarming on the other.

And then there was that Tyki guy again, and Allen's curious and no less alarming 180 in regards to him. Granted, Allen's first encounter had been with an unshaven and scruffy version of him, but Lavi really couldn't say that the current one was any more trust-inspiring than the former. Still, as Lavi had previously taken note, there was something about the guy that was undeniably familiar, somehow, though Lavi could say with absolute certainty that he had never met him before in person. Still−

" _Fucking sucks, doesn't it? Remembering."_

Furthermore, the guy had been eerily calm back when Allen had lapsed into that episode of his, like he had dealt with similar cases before. Shameful as it might have been to admit it, even to himself, Lavi had panicked a bit. Even so, after the events, he could recall with definite clarity how the man had sat down on the floor next to the kitchen sink, Allen's head and body resting against his side while he had his fingers lightly against the teen's throat, first measuring his pulse and then−

The sound of metal hitting metal tore him from his thoughts.

Tyki, who was doing the digging, tapped lightly on the thing with the shovel.

It sounded metallic and hollow.

Lavi looked at Allen. Allen did not seem to notice, staring down at the thing down in the hole as if it held a dead body. Judging by the size and proportions of the box down there, it was not entirely unlikely.

-.-.-.-


	7. Complications

_The seventh instalment (wherein there is something in a box)_

-.-.-.-

 **Complications**

-.-.-.-

"A box?"

Well, it was that or a casket. At this point in time, Lavi did not know for certain what he would do in case it turned out to be the latter. "Allen?"

As expected, the beneficiary did not acknowledge him.

"What now, boy?" Tyki asked, tapping lightly on the lid again.

For whichever reason, that seemed to bring the beneficiary out of it. Which was a relief yet also not a relief.

Allen bit his lip, looking from the box to the man standing beside it, and then back again. From where Lavi was standing, it looked like he was a bit at a loss to what to do, and going by that Tyki guy's expression, it seemed as though the latter was coming to a similar conclusion.

"Here," Tyki said, extending a hand.

For a brief moment, Allen eyed the extended hand with seeming distrust. He still extended his hand though, albeit hesitantly, and allowed the guy to assist him in getting down into the hole. He seemed to have forgotten all about Lavi for now, which was potentially a good thing. It was good because it allowed Lavi to properly observe the situation. It was also not so good because even if he saw things, he felt as though he lacked the means to make proper sense of them.

"Open it," Allen said at last, his voice quiet but steady.

Tyki Mikk was not late to oblige the command.

The lid fell to the side with a heavy thud and Allen drew a sharp breath.

Lavi leaned over the edge, trying to catch a glimpse of what lay within the box. It proved hard, because there was a tall guy in the way.

Tyki Mikk meanwhile just stood there for a moment. Then he whistled, crouching down to have a closer look. "Well, that's pretty interesting."

 _Interesting_ was one way of putting it. _Disturbing_ was another. Because that was most definitely a dead body, a human mummy, and it was definitely holding _something_ that this Tyki guy had just− "Hey, what are you doing?! _Don't touch it!_ "

Tyki blinked up at him, having already liberated the thing from the mummy's cold dead hands, literally! "A bit late for that," he noted, sheepish yet entirely unapologetic as he pressed the thing into Allen's hand. "There. Hold on to that for now. I need to close the lid."

Lavi was baffled by how casually Tyki treated this event. Well, that and horrified. Going by what he could see, the beneficiary felt something similar.

-.-.-.-

"Hey, you okay down there, boy?"

It was a stupid question. A really stupid one. "I just came face to face with a dead body," he mumbled, not bothering to remove the arm he'd laid across his eyes. "Do I look okay?"

The pause that followed proved very telling. "You seem to be doing pretty okay to me," Tyki commented, and he sounded like he meant it. "I mean," he went on. "You didn't throw up or anything…"

"Makes you wonder just how many dead bodies _someone_ could've come across in their lifetime," Lavi muttered under his breath, and wasn't that an interesting thought?

The shrug was practically audible as Tyki spoke up once more. "I'm not gonna lie. I've definitely seen a few. Mostly animals of course."

"Mostly," Lavi repeated, his tone of voice very much betraying his thoughts.

"Empty buildings attract vagrants, and vagrants occasionally freeze to death… or overdose," Tyki deadpanned. "You get used to it."

Allen felt a little sick. "Could we talk about something else? Please."

There was a brief pause. "The cryptex?" Tyki finally suggested.

Right, _that_ thing. "Do you want me to puke all over you?"

-.-.-.-

Lavi actually felt a bit better about the situation afterwards, back indoors. Perhaps it was strange to think that. But all things considered, it seemed a lot smarter to consider things somewhere dry and reasonably warm as opposed to somewhere open, mildly humid and decidedly chilly. Which was not to sat that the entire building was nice and cosy, but this particular bedroom certainly was.

"I know, right?"

Granted, Lavi would probably have felt even better without Tyki there, but you can't have everything in life now, can you? Besides, he reasoned that it was better to keep the man well within his sights, even if it meant having him in the same room as the beneficiary. Speaking of whom−

Allen Walker lay curled up underneath the covers on the bed. Judging by his breathing, he was sleeping soundly, his expression relaxed and unguarded.

"He's exhausted," Tyki commented, keeping himself busy with the cryptex. "It takes a lot out of you to 'remember' things."

That thing again. "Yeah, do you think that you could maybe shed some light on that? Because that's not normal where I come from."

Tyki shot him a brief glance as he joined him down on the thick carpet. "It is where I come from," he offered simply and then offered him the cryptex like some sort of peace offering. "Wanna try your luck?"

Lavi was understandably wary. Still, the guy likely had some useful info, so Lavi might as well give it a try. Besides, this was technically the second peace offering. The first had been Lavi's phone; the screen had a sizeable crack on it, but that had posed no real obstacle to Lavi. The real obstacle had proven to be on the other end.

You see, Lavi had managed to make contact with Bookman Senior and rattled off a rudimentary summary of all the shit that had gone down since the start of the day, finishing off with a nice _"Old Man, what the heck's going on here?"_

The answers had proven annoyingly evasive, especially in regards to Allen's behaviour. The instructions however had been surprisingly straightforward. _"I will head over there immediately. In the meantime, do not interfere,"_ the Old Man had said before promptly ending the call, leaving no room for debate.

Simply put, Lavi was a bit annoyed, yes. But he was also relieved, because the Old Man was coming, and knowing the Old Man did not in fact have a valid driver's licence at the moment, he would not be coming alone. Still, Lavi could only hope that he would bring along someone capable.

Even so, it would take time, _hours_ , and Lavi had to find some way to keep both Allen and that Tyki guy at the location until the cavalry arrived. As such, it was a good thing that Allen was sleeping, and that he would likely continue sleeping for a while, if Tyki's comment served as any indication. Tyki Mikk in turn would hardly go anywhere either, because if he had been planning to leave, then he would have left already, which meant that something was keeping him there, and Lavi had a definite inkling as to what that might be.

Lavi tried not to think about it. Instead, he focused upon the cryptex, twisting the dials. It did him little good though, because instead of letters or numbers, there was a range of symbols that were decidedly familiar to him.

"I thought Dan Brown invented the cryptex," he muttered to himself, trying to memorise various combinations he had seen back when he, unable to help his own curiosity, had taken a good look at the letter he had delivered to Allen, back at the very beginning of this mess.

"It's practically a word lock," Tyki commented. "And the Chinese had those back in the 13th Century."

"And how the fuck do you know that?" Lavi asked, really just voicing his thoughts out loud.

Gleefully, Tyki held up his phone; no, _Allen_ 's phone. " _Wikipedia_."

Lavi refrained from bringing it up, but was it difficult? Yes. Much too difficult as a matter of fact. "Maybe you shouldn't be using other people's phones like that…" he muttered, unable to help himself.

"And maybe _you_ shouldn't go around kidnapping people," Tyki countered without missing a beat, evidently amused by Lavi's irritation.

On one hand, Lavi had most certainly walked into that one. On the other hand, two could play at that game. "And maybe you shouldn't go around trespassing."

If anything, Tyki's amusement only seemed to increase. "Said one trespasser to another."

Really? "It's not trespassing if I'm one of the executors of this estate."

"Hoh? You seem a bit young for that."

Yeah, as if Lavi had not heard that one before. "I'm nineteen and a _genius_. You on the other hand seem a bit old to be sneaking around on other people's property."

There was a slight shrug at that. "Well, I'm twenty-six…ish. I have the memory of a goldfish, the curiosity and attention span of a cat, and−"

"Curiosity killed the cat," Lavi said.

"But satisfaction brought it back," Tyki easily responded.

Lavi kind of wanted to wipe that smug look off of Tyki's face, but why not dig for additional information while the other seemed to be in a good mood? "How does having the memory of a goldfish go with that 'remembering' thing you keep talking about?" he asked.

"Well," Tyki paused, looking thoughtful now. "They're not mutually exclusive."

Lavi slowly put the cryptex down, dedicating his full attention to studying the man in front of him. "You do know that the three second memory thing has been debunked, right?"

There was a mild shrug at that. "Up to five months, yeah, which is better than a lot of people I've met. Still, fairly accurate in my case."

That was fair enough, Lavi supposed. Still− "How?"

Tyki reached out and picked the cryptex back up, turning it over in his hands, scrutinising it. "Memory is a funny thing. The more I remember, the more I forget," he said, tracing his fingertips over the symbols. "These for example; I know I've never seen them before I came here, but at the same time, they were really familiar to me the first time I saw them… Still can't read them though."

Yeah, and Lavi was not about to inform him that there was someone in the room that could. Definitely _not_. "Earlier, you said it takes a lot out of you to 'remember' things. It's normal, you said. What's the basis of that conclusion?"

Tyki blinked, evidently puzzled. "The basis of what now?"

Lavi felt his fingers give an involuntary twitch. "How do you know that?" he clarified, uncertain as to whether or not Tyki's major problem might just be word comprehension. "How do you know that such… episodes are a normal thing?"

Tyki turned his head slightly, looking towards the bed. For several moments, he said nothing at all. "I used to have them when I was young," he said at last, putting a hand underneath his chin, looking pensive again. "I think I might've been about ten when they started, maybe a little younger… But no one really made a big deal out of them, and Sheril was always there to call me back…"

"Sheril?"

Tyki's expression soured slightly. "My brother… of sorts. It's complicated."

Lavi had a feeling this whole affair was overtly complicated. Still− "Did Sheril have them too? These episodes…"

Tyki shrugged at that. "Who knows? But he said it's a hereditary thing so…"

A hereditary thing, huh?

Lavi mentally compiled a list of plausible, hereditary conditions, but none of them included that memory thing. Then again, he was not a psychiatrist, so… not an expert. Still− "If it's hereditary, then why would he have it?" Lavi asked, nodding towards Allen, who was beginning to stir. Which was good, yet also not so good. "And what does it mean?"

Going by the look Tyki shot him, Lavi was starting to believe that he was barking up the wrong tree, at least as far as more complex matters were concerned. Then again−

Lavi opened his mouth to pursue the matter further but stopped when Tyki visibly perked up. Lavi was unwittingly reminded of how a dog reacts to the footsteps of its master, and the thought distracted him long enough for Tyki to get to his feet and sit down on the side of the bed, holding the cryptex.

"Yo, how's your head?" he asked.

This time around, Lavi had an excellent view. The look sent his and Tyki's way was decidedly dark. It was hostile, to say the very least.

"Sorry," Tyki said, seeming genuinely apologetic. "Here."

Allen's eyes fell upon the cryptex. They widened slightly in surprise and then narrowed as they turned back to Tyki's face.

To his credit, Tyki did not seem overtly fazed. Instead, he smirked, motioning to the cryptex now in Allen's hands. "For you."

Torn in-between mounting horror and curiosity, Lavi looked on as Allen brought the cryptex closer to his face, narrowing his eyes like that again. Tyki also looked on, puzzled at first. Then, abruptly, he snapped his fingers. "Right! Hang on a sec."

He quickly retrieved his bag, and from it, he retrieved those ugly glasses of his. "Try these."

Allen put them on, blinking repeatedly. "These are all wrong," he finally muttered.

"Better or worse compared to before?" Tyki asked.

"Better," Allen said, pushing them farther up his nose as he looked back down at the cryptex. "Somewhat."

"Coming to think of it, I think I saw a pair of glasses back in the office… Are they yours?"

"Probably," Allen muttered, turning the cryptex over in his hand. "I keep misplacing my glasses and−" He reached up to scratch his head and then abruptly froze. "Huh? I don't recall cutting my hair? Or bleaching it?"

By now, Lavi was horrified. And intrigued, of course, but mostly the former. Tyki on the other hand seemed to be mostly the latter. "What's the last thing you remember?" he asked.

"Uh… I think I was headed down to the lab to−" Allen looked up at Tyki, and abruptly, all colour drained from his face. "Wait−" His eyes darted from Tyki to the room to Lavi and then back again. "What's−?"

Horrified or not, Lavi decided to get involved. "What's wrong?"

Allen looked from Tyki to Lavi, as if only really noticing him just now. "Who is that?" he asked, tugging lightly at Tyki's shirt.

Tyki seemed puzzled but proved quite willing to indulge him. "That would be Lavi Bookman Junior of Bookman & Junior. Allegedly."

Allen(?) perked up at the mention of Bookman, and he eyed Lavi with renewed interest. "I didn't know he took on another apprentice…"

And Lavi didn't know there had been people before him. Allegedly. "Lavi Bookman, at your service."

Lavi extended his hand and tried not to show his surprise when Allen immediately took it and shook it while smiling almost serenely at him.

"My condolences," he said.

Lavi was not sure what that was supposed to mean, but he was decidedly certain about one thing. Uncaring of whether or not they could see and hear him, he pulled out his phone and called Bookman. "Hey, Old Man," he greeted immediately once the call connected. "The beneficiary has gone through a personality switch and suddenly needs glasses. Should I be worried about this?"

-.-.-.-


	8. Revelations

_The eighth instalment (wherein there are a few revelations)_

-.-.-.-

 **Revelations**

-.-.-.-

If there is will, there is way, and if there is way, well−

"Yeah, that's definitely better."

The beneficiary adjusted his glasses, eerily unfazed as he moved through the corridor; it was almost as though the phone call and ensuing conversation that had happened just minutes prior had just been a fever dream or a mass hallucination of sorts. "And whoa, this place is a mess."

Lavi honestly could not help but stare. Because really− "The other Allen Walker said the exact same thing, you know."

The beneficiary paused briefly and then simply shrugged. "Makes sense."

" _Why?"_

"Because it does."

Except it really _didn't_. Then again, few things did at this point.

The current – or past, depending on the perspective – Allen Walker had snatched Lavi's phone, spoken familiarly with Bookman Senior, asked about the date, asked about the cryptex, and then paused, puzzled, after receiving info on Tyki's age. It had been a strange conversation, to say the very least.

" _Wait… just to make sure: How old are you?"_

" _Twenty-seven."_

" _Okay… since when?"_

" _Since Christmas day actually."_

" _Right… And how old am I?"_

"… _Sixteen?"_

" _Sixteen? Since when?"_

" _Since Christmas day."_

" _Okay… and who's this?"_

" _Allen Walker."_

" _Oh. Are you sure about that?"_

They had received the results from the DNA sample, so yeah, they were pretty sure.

"Did he say anything else?"

It took Lavi a moment to recall what, or rather who, they were talking about. Right. Allen. "He also voiced an interest in torching the place to cash in on insurance."

The beneficiary paused briefly, blinked, and then− "Okay."

"Is that really necessary?" Tyki asked, speaking up for the first time in minutes; up until now, he had simply followed the events with a mixture of wariness and keen interest. "It's such a nice old building…"

This elicited a slight but choked laugh, followed by a stumble.

Tyki proved astonishingly quick though.

For a brief moment, there was little movement; just the sound of the beneficiary gasping, slumped forward against Tyki's arm. Concerned, Lavi was slowly inching closer when the beneficiary suddenly lifted his head, blinking owlishly for a few moments before reaching up to touch the glasses.

Moments thereafter, the glasses were flung down the corridor with a violent force.

"Tyki," the beneficiary said at last, sounding strained. "Get me the fuck out of here. _Please_."

Going by the tone, it seemed as though the normal Allen was back. Which was a relief. Or not.

Then there was Tyki. "Got it. I'm gonna pick you up, okay?"

And Lavi, Lavi just watched numbly as Tyki scooped up the beneficiary, who nearly immediately hid his face in the crook of the vagrant's neck. Even Tyki seemed to be surprised the sudden clinginess. He seemed to recover fairly quickly though, and not at all inconvenienced.

"Yeah, so…" he said, looking towards Lavi. "We're going. You coming?"

-.-.-.-

Thus, Lavi found himself getting back behind the wheel, trying and failing not to glance at the pair in backseat through the rear-view mirror.

Tyki really did not seem to mind the situation an awful lot though. He had his eyes closed and looked fairly relaxed with Allen curled up against him, eyes closed and forehead resting against his throat.

Looking at them now, Lavi wondered whether he should feel relieved as opposed to concerned.

On one hand, it seemed as though leaving the house itself had been enough, given that Allen had not insisted on going any farther.

On the other hand, nothing that had taken place had really presented any new answers, only new questions. And Tyki, talkative as he might have shown himself to be, was not up to answering questions at the moment, and Lavi would rather not bother Allen now that the beneficiary seemed to have calmed down again after this latest… fit of his.

But really: What the Hell? Lavi had so not signed up for this.

Still, on the other hand, he _was_ undeniably curious about both the mansion and the beneficiary, so…

"So…" Lavi said at last, locking eyes with the oddly-coloured, almost yellow eyes through the rear-view mirror. "Did _your_ episodes also involve that kind of thing?"

Tyki said nothing, but going by the look in his eyes, it was rather likely.

And since there was no rebuttal, Lavi would have pursued the matter further, but then−

Tyki lifted his head, gaze much sharper now. But he was not looking at Lavi as much as he was looking past him, pulling Allen closer in the process. It was a protective but also undeniably possessive move that worried Lavi about as intensively as anything that might have provoked it.

Even so, Lavi directed his attention ahead.

Someone was coming.

-.-.-.-

Fortunately, it was someone that Lavi would classify as an ally.

"Ah, Junior!"

Barba was large and tall, balding head hidden by the customary straw hat as he stepped out of the beaten old pickup. He was wearing his usual attire, and cheerfully as ever, closed the distance in-between them in a matter of a few long strides. "You should've told me you'd be coming over. I would've−"

But then the man noticed the people in the backseat. A beat of silence followed, and then, the man's face brightened like the sun. " _Allen!_ You've grown so much!"

Lavi could not help but wince a bit at the volume, because Barba had basically shouted right into his ear and− And then, wait−

Lavi snapped his head around just in time to see Allen's eyes opening, his head turning in direction of the noise.

"Barba?"

Barba's expression grew even more radiant.

Tyki's expression meanwhile darkened noticeably, but the man still loosened his grip when Allen moved, reaching for the door handle.

"Yes, Allen, it's me," Barba said, immediately reaching inside to shake his hand. "Mother always said you'd be back, but then she−"

Barba's voice broke momentarily, eyes wet, but then he smiled again, holding Allen's hand with such a tender look in his eyes that Lavi had never seen anything quite like it. "Will you come visit us again, Allen?" Barba asked, giving the hand a light squeeze. "Soon?"

Absentmindedly cataloguing the entire exchange, Lavi watched as Allen nodded.

"Today?" Barba asked, sounding hopeful.

Allen shook his head, pulled his hand away and curled back up against Tyki, who proved very willing to accommodate him. "Not today," Allen mumbled, closing his eyes again. "Tomorrow."

Lavi did not know what to think anymore.

-.-.-.-

Everything was weird. Weird, but not necessarily in a bad way, because he wasn't scared, not anymore. He had been scared when he had found himself in the hallway, wearing a pair of glasses. Because he had obviously lost time, and going by the location and the company, he had not been idle.

" _Tyki, get me the fuck out of here._ _ **Please**_ _."_

For some reason, there had been no doubt in his mind that Tyki would listen to him. For some reason, Tyki made him feel safe.

There was no logic behind it of course, and for now, Allen was too tired to care. Tyki did not seem to mind it an awful lot though. If anything, then−

" _Allen! You've grown so much!"_

Barba was there. Why?

" _ **He's here for you, you know."**_

The voice in his head was quiet, but there nonetheless. Had he gone over the edge at long last?

" _ **Not really. You've merely started Awakening."**_

Awakening?

" _ **That's right."**_

What the Hell was that supposed to mean?!

"… _ **Didn't Cross tell you anything?"**_

-.-.-.-

Allen awoke with a start. He was back inside the car.

Tyki was there, close, and Lavi was there too.

Allen opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, unable to decide on how to express what he had just experienced.

"You okay down there, Boy?"

Okay? _Okay?_ "…There's someone inside my head."

Yeah, and that sounded insane.

"We know," Lavi said. "We already talked. He seemed fairly cosy with the Old Man."

Okay, and that wasn't any better. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

-.-.-.-

Allen felt way better afterwards. Not directly after puking of course, because he had felt fairly awful at the time. But after rinsing his mouth and showering, Allen felt a lot more like himself again. Granted, he was wearing someone else's clothes, but all this was supposedly his anyway, so who gave a damn?

"Better now?"

Allen did not feel the need to respond. Instead, he simply flopped down unto the bed before continuing to dry his hair.

"I've got a hairdryer," Tyki offered, motioning for his bag.

And Allen appreciated the offer, really.

But anyways− "Can we just run this shit by me one more time? I'll go ahead and start: I was looking into ways of dealing with my late guardian's debts when this guy−" Allen pointed to Lavi. "−decided to fucking abduct me, just because I could read some scribbles."

Tyki shot Lavi a decidedly pointed look. Lavi just smiled and waved, because who gave a shit at this point.

"I was tasked with finding and delivering an Allen Walker who could read the script to the office," Lavi said at last, when it became apparent that Allen was not about to say anything about his motives. "And, as I mentioned earlier, he's the _fourteenth_ Allen Walker I've had to deal with. And, as I might've _not_ mentioned, he was a definite flight risk and freaking armed at the time."

Allen shot him an irritated look, but what Lavi was saying was true, so, so what?

"And, according to the DNA results, we've definitely got the right person," Lavi continued. "And that's about as much as I've got to say about the matter, but the Old Man can probably tell you a lot more. He's coming over by the way. He should be here in a couple of hours."

"Who's the Old Man?" Tyki asked Allen, who simply shrugged.

"He's Mr. Bookman, the executor of this estate," Lavi said, impatiently. "And he's spent thirty-some years on this case, so the _least_ you can do is stick around until we've finalised all the paperwork. Got it?"

Allen shot him a look which indicated that he would be more than willing to run for the hills, simply for the sake of inconveniencing Lavi.

"I think you should take it," Tyki said, matter-of-factly. "I mean, if you don't want it, someone else might be willing to pay a pretty penny for this place. Or the stuff in it at any rate."

"This place has me hearing voices and getting possessed by dead people," Allen said, equally matter-of-factly. "I think we should torch the place."

Both were sound arguments, but Lavi would rather die than admit it out loud. That said however− "Are we like going to completely ignore those 'remembering' episodes? Because that stuff's not normal. At all."

Tyki looked to Allen. Allen looked annoyed.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said.

"We don't need to," Lavi said, holding up the cryptex. "I just wanna know who taught you to read these."

Because Lavi knew for a fact that neither Barba or his late 'Mother' had known it, and barring Cross Marian, they would have the most likely candidates as far as Lavi himself was aware, but−

"No one," Allen said, averting his eyes. "Mana and I made them."

Yeah, but− "Did you really make them up or did you 'remember' them?"

-.-.-.-

Cross Marian was dead.

'Mother Marian' was dead.

Mana… whatever happened to him again?

-.-.-.-

"I didn't sign up for this," Allen said, pulling the oversized coat closer to himself. Because it was getting quite chilly, and Tyki had insisted on the coat. "I don't care about what that other guy said. I don't want him inside my head. I don't care about any of this. As for the house, they can do whatever. Sell it. Repay my debts. Keep the change. I'll just−"

"You should consider buying something though," Tyki suggested. "How about a car or something? I could teach you to drive."

It seemed as though Tyki would follow him. This should have unnerved him, yet even so, Allen found that he was surprisingly okay with it.

"So," Tyki said at last, nodding to the cross. "You wanna talk about it?"

Not really, but at this point, he might as well. "I don't remember much," he said. "When I was ten, Cross found me in the cemetery, covered in blood and who knows what else. I only knew two things: 1) Mana was dead, and 2) Mana tried to kill me."

For a long while, Tyki said nothing. "Looks to me like you got him instead," he said at last, matter-of-factly. "And if he went for you first, then that's legitimate self-defence."

Insensitive, perhaps, but strangely comforting nonetheless. "I used to wallow in it," Allen admitted, still staring ahead. "I used to look at the happy memories I had and wonder where I went wrong, what I'd done wrong. Because I used to think that I must have been at fault; that Mana was always good to me and that anything that contradicted that was fabricated."

Tyki let out a thoughtful hum at that. "Was it the other way around?"

Was it? "No," he said at last, with relative certainty. "Mana never treated me badly, not on purpose, but he was like a child in the body of an adult; an adult with a shitty memory and single-track mind. He always tried to make me laugh, making these idiotic faces at me…"

Allen felt his throat constrict and his eyes tearing up, but he forced them back, because he was already over this, goddammit! "Mana always told me never to be sad. He said that tragedy called out to 'the Earl'."

Tyki said nothing for several long moments, apparently lost in thought. "Which of them cut up your face like that?" he asked at last.

"Does it matter?" Allen asked, lowering his gaze to the ground. The grave was covered in grass, completely devoid of flowers. "As far as I'm concerned, they both died that night. But do you wanna know what's really fucked up about it all? I have this vivid image of him thanking me for it…"

"Maybe he thought it'd be better to die than live, if living meant he'd have to kill you," Tyki eventually said, sounding thoughtful. "But even if that was the case, it wouldn't change the past…"

For supposedly having a five-month memory, the guy sure had a lot of profound wisdom to share.

"Do you think I should do it?" Allen asked at last. "Do you think that I should open up this can of worms just to see if there's something remotely worth knowing at the bottom of it all?"

Tyki took a moment to think about it. "If it was me, I'd probably go for it," he finally said. "But wasn't the thing about Pandora's box that the good stuff was what remained afterwards? Besides, at the very least, you won't ever have to worry about money again, right?"

-.-.-.-

The rest of the lot seemed surprised to see them return. Granted, a few of them hid it well, but they were surprised alright.

"Tyki convinced me not to torch the place until we've unravelled all its secrets," Allen offered as his greeting before turning to Lavi, who actually took half a step backwards. "Call in your tech guy. We're mapping out the secret tunnels."

-.-.-.-


End file.
